


Difficult Words

by bondboy68



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Child Abuse, Drug Use, M/M, Night Terrors, OC relationship of sorts, Q centric, Slight GWTDT AU, but not really, eventual OC death, mild description of graphic violence, psychoanalytical therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bondboy68/pseuds/bondboy68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is released from prison into the custody of MI6 at age 20. First it's just a way out of a hell hole and a job where he can use a computer all day long. But MI6 provides him with so much more; refuge, healing, family, love, and eventual peace of mind. This is a story about before Q was Q, when he was Kyle, then Shadow, then Charles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some tags may be added as this is a WIP. I love/hate writing about hard topics like therapy and drug use because I'm always worried that somebody will be upset about inaccurate portrayal. So I ended up making up my own drug (it's basically just the drug they use in Looper). The psychoanalysis scenes are pulled from research and study from books written by people who went through psychoanalysis, as I have never experienced it personally. 
> 
> This is a WIP. I have 12k written as of uploading the first chapter. Feedback is a good way to encourage me to write more. Not sure how often I'll update but I promise not to leave with a month of no-updates. This is also the first part of what I decided would work better as a 2-part series. The next part will be Q/Bond and rated E. 
> 
> Un-beta'ed, but I did try to do my own editing.

“Recognize this as a second chance. The last one you will receive. Do not make me regret this. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, M.”

They stared at each other from across the table; the steel lady of MI6 and the cyber genius punk it had taken an entire team and five years investigation to bring down. He didn’t look like much at one glance, and that’s all most people gave him. But under M’s orders the SIS had taken a second look, and then several more. They soon realized they had two options; bide their time until he finally crossed the line and they were forced to take him out permanently, or get him on their side. Because against them, it was clear that he was very, very dangerous. 

M looked at the photograph in the file in front of her. The information had been hard to put together. It crossed many different aliases and even a few different countries. The eight mounts of prison had effected and changed the boy she saw in the picture. 

“Where are your glasses?” Was her first question. 

“They took them away.”

“Why?”

“I stabbed somebody with them.”

“Why did you do that?”

His eyes rose and met hers directly. “What does a person do when they are about to be harmed?”

“I believe something called ‘fight or flight.’”

“There was nowhere to run.”

“You had to learn to fight back at a very young age, didn’t you?” No answer. “Can you see without them?” He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Well we’ll try to get you a replacement tomorrow.” She took in the rest of him. Telltale marks of both a broken nose and a split lip a few weeks into healing. His shirt was too big and nearly hung of his shoulders. “You’ve been in solitary?” He nodded. Taking note of his injuries, she added “To protect you.”

“I’m not the one who needs protecting.” As he spoke, M was flipping a page and saw a graphic account of just why the boys glasses were taken from him. 

“Yes. I can see that now.” 

Good, she thought. MI6 couldn’t afford any weak links. 

She had already signed the paperwork before meeting him, she just wanted a good look first. He certainly didn’t look like an MI6 operative. Hair hanging in his eyes and tattoos snaking down his limbs. And he appeared at least five years younger than his actual age, which had taken some digging to come up with. Twenty. But instead of being doubtful she was curious to see how he would adapt. She could recognize a resilient person when she saw one. M handed the paperwork to the guard. 

“Gather your things,” she told the boy. “I’ll be waiting outside in a car when you’re ready.”

His street clothes did not improve his image and Agent Rufus Banner gave her a look before leaning back into his seat. Both of them watched the boy make his way down the walk toward the car, not sparing a glance back at the prison.

“He looks like he belongs in a drugs bust,” the agent remarked. 

“Well that’s true enough. But he hacked into the pentagon in record time. Then after they’d recovered and updated their security and firewall, he proceeded to break his own record. Just because he could, he says.” 

The boy climbed into the car with only a small messenger bag, clad in baggy black pants that threatened to slip right off his hips and an even baggier shirt than before, riddled with holes from time and use. 

“I want my laptop back.”

“We’ll see,” M chirped as the car began to pull away. “Kyle, this is Agent Banner--”

“Don’t call me that.”

M pursed her lips. There existed a limited few who dared to speak to her in that tone.

“Well what do you expect to be called? Not that horrendous cyber alias, that life is behind you now. While you are employed in the SIS I trust we will see none of your previous hacker-terrorist aliases cropping up.”

“Fine. But I don’t want to be called /that/.” He seemed very serious. 

“What would you like to be called?”

The boy didn’t think on it very long. “Charles.”

“Alright. Charles. This is Banner, think of him as your keeper. Tomorrow he will get you set up in an office.”

“Where are we going now?” Charles asked. 

 

“We have a flat set up for you, near HQ.”

“You’ll be able to walk to work in five minutes,” Banner added helpfully, but the boy didn’t look excited. When they pulled up to the tall building, M took the boy up to his new apartment alone. 

“I gathered what few possessions of yours we could find, but for now as part of your parol you will only be allowed to use a computer at work, while supervised. If you require anything, just write it down and Banner will get it for you.”

“Am I allowed to leave?”

“Yes but you will be monitored.” At least she was honest. “This is a panic button,” she showed him a panel on the wall. “Use it only if you feel you are in danger.” She also gave him a cell phone preprogramed with the numbers for MI6 and Agent Banner and a set of keys for the apartment. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she told him before departing. Charles was glad she didn’t hover. 

There was a floor to ceiling window in the living room with a spectacular view of the city. He sat in front of it and watched the city light up as the sky grew dark. His finger tips trailed over the skin on his arm, tracing lines of tattoos by muscle memory and occasionally digging into bruises still left over. He had lost track of time when there was a knock on the door. Charles turned to see Banner poke his head in. 

“Curry? Thought you’d like something substantial. Doesn’t look like you’ve been eating much.” He set take away containers on the counter and stared at the boy until he finally came over and picked up a fork. Once he smelled the food his stomach leapt for it. He picked up a container and sat down, his booted feet curled up on the chair with him. It was as good as it smelled. 

“If I leave,” he asked halfway through, “will you follow me?”

“Yes.”

“And do what?”

“Nothing, just follow.”

“And tell M where I went?”

“Only if it seems necessary.” He watched Charles eat in silence for a while. “Somewhere you want to go?”

“There’s some friends I want to see.”

“You want me to call the car?”

“I’d rather walk.”

When he was done eating he went to the bedroom and found his clothes from his old flat had been moved over and put away. He shrugged on a coat and left wordlessly. To Banner’s credit, he gave Charles plenty of space. He followed far enough away that he could easily be forgotten, but Charles suspected he was probably very good at his job and wouldn't loose him in the thick crowds spilling in and out of the nightclubs and restaurants. While he wasn’t all that physically impressive in his nice, dark grey suit, Banner was probably highly trained for field work and would act as a body guard if the need arose. Which given Charles’ more recent track record, might be necessary, as much as he had been trying to train to protect himself. 

Charles walked for an hour and just as the streets started to get more and more empty he slipped down an alley and into a dark warehouse that was buzzing with heavy bass, even from the outside. The bouncer nodded him in with out a big to-do and Charles was thankful his face had not yet been forgotten. Charles searched the dark, loud club until he located a small group crowded around a table near the wall. There were four of them; his old crew of sorts. All of them skilled in their own right but none as much as Charles, nor did they know the extent of his power. Charlotte screeched when she saw him and leapt to her feet. 

“Shadow!” She threw her arms around his neck but pulled away quickly to look at his face. She’d dyed her hair since he’d last seen her, probably more than once, and attained several new piercings. “What happened to your face? What are you doing here?” 

Justin was looking at him like he was a ghost. He looked bulkier, probably from the underground fighting he’d been getting into, trying to prove himself there since he wasn’t doing as well in cyberspace. “I thought you were in for at least fiver.” 

“I got out. Struck a deal.” 

“With who? Satan?”

“Possibly.” Charles wondered how close to the truth that was. 

Stev, a third friend, pushed through the other two and grabbed Charles’ face, pressing their foreheads together. “It is go good to see you,” he said with an intensity that was actually quite normal for him. Stev’s blond dreads were much longer now but other than that he was exactly the same. “You look amazing.” He pulled Charles into a tight hug, holding him for a long time despite the way Charles stiffened at his touch and didn’t return the embrace. “You’re energy levels feel really good.”

“Stev. Back off,” Charlotte warned quietly, sensing Charles’ discomfort. He stepped away. “You ok?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“I think you look like shit. How many studs did you have in there?” Grim called from where he hadn’t bothered to get out of his seat. 

“Fuck off, /Gracie/.” 

Grim was fast and in a blink was up and catching Charles in the stomach with a strong punch. He doubled over and Grim locked his arm around the smaller boy’s neck, cutting off his air. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Call me. That.”

“Grim, stop it!” Charlotte shrieked. Both Stev and Justin pulled the two apart. 

“Fuck, Grim. He just got out of fucking /prison/. Cool off.” 

“Fuck you.” Grim spat on the ground. 

“You want to sit? Have a drink?” Charlotte’s eyes were pleading but Charles was immune.

“No, I can’t sty. Is Dewitt here?”

“Yeah, over by the stair. But why--”

“I got to go.”

“Shadow...”

Charles pulled her off and headed toward the stairs that led to the VIP loft. At a table near the base of the staircase sat Dewitt.

“Is that the little Shadow?” the man called. “You went dark for a while there, my friend. Or would that be light?” He giggled at his own joke. 

“I need something.”

Dewitt raised an eyebrow. “Well then let’s go to my office, shall we?” Charles followed him up the stairs and passed the VIP couches to a small storage closet that Dewitt had shoved a desk and a couple chairs into. He sat behind the desk and lit a cigarette. “What can I do you for, old Shadow? Grass, meth, heroine?” 

Charles glanced around and grabbed a piece of paper from the desk, writing his request on it quickly. Dewitt’s eyes widened in paranoia and he wrote back /‘Are you bugged?’/

/’No. But you are.’/

Dewitt mouthed ‘Where’, but Charles only pointed at his written order. Dewitt opened his desk drawer and tossed a small vial of yellowish liquid at him. Charles found a wad of cash in one of his many pockets and dropped it on the desk, then pointed out two areas in the office. As he left, Dewitt was poking around, trying to locate the near invisible bugs himself that had probably been there far too long for him to undo any damage. He avoided his old friends as he left the club, stuffing the vial deep into one of his pockets. Out in the alley, he jumped as he nearly smacked into Banner’s chest. 

“You alright?”

“Yes, fine.”

“Rough crowd in there.”

“I’m fine.”

Banner gave him a quick up-down. “I’ve got the car, come on.” He drove Charles straight back to his apartment and waited until he was inside before driving away. The boy guessed he would be limited in his excursions after all. Charles wandered around the apartment and found three bugs, all of them in the kitchen and living room and not to well disguised, probably on purpose. They didn’t care if they knew he was being watched, and he was only being monitored in the main rooms, leaving the bedroom and bathroom clear. How kind of them. 

In the bedroom he fished out the vial he’d gotten from Dewitt. He stared at it, internally waring with himself. First he put it down. He didn’t need it. But as soon as he began to walk away he felt the urge to pull out his hair, claw at his skin until it peeled off. He went back and dropped to his knees. He carefully untwisted the top and pulled up the dropper. He tiled his head back and did two drops in each eye. Once it was done he sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. It was a familiar rush, and now his mind was clear. 

He stripped off all his clothes in the bedroom walked nude into the adjoining bathroom. Even though he was alone he still locked the door. There was a large bathtub that he filled up to the brim. For a while he just squatted next to the tub, trailing his fingers over the surface of the near boiling hot water. While it was still scalding, his slid in, water spilling out over the sides. He complete submerged himself, holding his breath for as long as he could before breaching the water with a gasp. It turned his skin pink from the heat. There was soap and shampoo already stocked and he used them both to excess. He scrubbed his skin raw and sat in the tub until the water was cool and he felt pruney. 

He dried off and did another few drops, then climbed into the large bed naked. Finally, at around four am, he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day at MI6; computers, psychologists, and withdraws.

Somebody was screaming, but that was normal. There were often people screaming in the prison, day and night. It would stop eventually, accompanied by pain, like always. But instead of pain, he felt sudden cold water. The boy awoke with a start, gasping and sputtering. His throat felt raw.

“Charles! Charles!” 

He blinked up. It was too bright. Who was that, who were they talking to? His vision cleared and his memory came back. Banner. Yelling at him. His name, his new name. 

“Charles, can you hear me?” 

He blinked and nodded. Banner looks worried. 

“What’s wrong?”

“W-what?”

“You were screaming like somebody was stabbing you.” 

Charles pushed his sopping wet hair out of his face. Oh. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Oh, good. In that case.” Banner threw a second bucket of freezing cold water at him. Charles sputtered again. 

“What?!”

“You think M’s going to appreciate that she just put her neck out for a fucking junkie?” The drops. He hadn’t cleaned up. “Get up. Get dressed. And here.” Banner threw a black box at him. Charles opened it and found a new pair of glasses. When he looked up Banner had left the bedroom. 

He walked into the kitchen several minutes later in a black long sleeve sweater with sleeves that went down past his fingertips and another pair of baggy pants. Banner was making breakfast. Charles shuffled in, head down, already ashamed of himself and ready for a lecture. But all Banner said was “What do you drink?” 

“Earl Grey?” Charles asked hopefully. It had been nearly a year since he had a decent cup of tea. Unfortunately, all Banner had was tea bags. The agent slid him a pad of paper. 

“Write down what kind of leaves you want and what else you’ll need.” Charles did and then wrapped his hands around his mug while the tea bag seeped. “Why do you dress like that?” he asked as he loaded two plates with eggs, bacon, and toast. Charles shrugged and picked at his food. “Oh, would you stop moping? This sad goth thing was very cute with your friends in the club, I’m sure, but cut it out. And for god’s sake, eat like you mean it.”

“You’re annoyed by the way I’m /eating/?” 

“I went to the trouble of making it, so yeah, at least pretend to enjoy it.”

“It’s just scrambled eggs and bacon!”

“I never said I was gourmet.”

“That’s for sure.”

Banner pointed at him with a strip of crispy bacon. “Don’t be cheeky or I won’t get you any tea leaves. Beats me why you can create the most advanced programming in the world but insist on taking your tea the old fashioned way.” In response, Charles stuffed as much food into his mouth as he could hold and made a grotesque face. To his surprise, Banner just laughed in response. “Finish eating, we have to get to the office.” Charles finished the entire plate despite his allegations of sub-par cooking. 

Before they walked out of the door, Banner grabbed his arm in a tight grip. “If I catch you even with somebody who is in possession of drugs, I won’t be so kind to just splash some water in your face. I’m holding off on your physical examination so it can get out of your system. I think you have enough on your record and you deserve a clean start.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you think I deserve a clean start?”

Banner gave him a look Charles had never seen directed at himself before. A look like he was simple, or dim. “Because you’re just a kid.” 

Charles wasn’t sure how to tell him that he’d never been ‘just a kid’. 

For most of his life that he cares to remember, Charles has existed almost primarily not in the real world, but in the cyber one as Shadow. Physically he hid in dark rooms warmed by the heat of whirling computers. Screens reflected in his glasses as he manipulated lives worlds away. When he had to move around the real world he did so quietly. He hid himself in dark baggy clothes and shaggy hair and slipped through nightclub crowds unseen to reach contacts that dealt only in the underground. 

Being led down the halls of MI6 felt much like the first time Charles was led in handcuffs down the hall to his prison cell. Both were clean, the overhead lights blinding compared to the dark rooms he was used to. It left him feeling exposed, unguarded. At least at prison the people he passed as he walked through rows of bared cells had not tried to hide their stares. They had yelled and whistled and reached for him, and while he was scared then at least he knew where he was and what they thought and where he stood. In the halls of MI6 people averted their gaze as soon as he looked their way. He could feel the eyes on him, but could never catch them. He could swear he could hear whispers. He moved closer to Banner, who was putting a visitor sticker on him.

“Do you want to hold onto me? You can.” The agent offered his arm to Charles. The boy shook his head, but then he heard a great commotion from up ahead and grabbed onto the offered arm. Banner chuckled. “Sounds like the great 007 is back from his mission.”

“What? What does that mean?” 

Banner winked at him. “You’ll learn soon enough.” They passed what looked to be a medical ward were a doctor was arguing loudly with a man who was covered in a surprising amount of blood. The man was ripping off his shirt and threw it at the doctor dramatically. He was all trained muscle and Charles could tell at once that this man was lethal. Banner tsked, pulling him past and toward an elevator. “Always making a scene. One of the double-oh agents. They say he’s M’s golden boy and he thinks he’s the queen’s tits.” Banner smiled at him, pressing a button for one of the underground levels. Charles released the man’s arm and slowly began to relax. When the doors opened, it all made up for the hell of being dragged through the halls above. Q Branch was huge and signs pointed to all different sections within the department. Cyber security, weapons development, testing range, mission stations. He wasn’t sure what all of them meant. But what he did see was sleek computers and lights and screens. Lots of people, all lost in headsets or in typing or designing. 

“Play your cards right, and one day you could be in control of all of it.” 

Charles spent the day being shown around and given orientations on the inner workings of MI6. Most of him concentrated on absorbing everything; it was like he was suddenly living in an old spy program (which, he supposed, he was). The rest of him was completely terrified, causing him cling to Banner’s arm, which the man didn’t seem to mind. He had a cubical desk all his own with a computer that wasn’t as good as the laptop he’d built but would do, and access to work stations if he needed to do design work. The best part was the large station with several projected screens where the Quartermaster was leading a double-oh through the streets of Morocco. Charles watched with wide eyes, listening to the agent over the speaker. Orders shouted back and forth. First Charles was amazed, then he was critical. It was all too sloppy. Why waste time explaining to the agent how to place the explosives when you could use a remote controlled drone to just drop them? It seemed like they were all wasting a lot of time. He said as much to Banner who laughed and told him he should keep it to himself for the time being. Charles was eager to meet Q, his new supervisor, but being so tied up it seemed unlikely. Banner promised they would soon be introduced. He wasn’t allowed to start on any work until he was cleared by medical, mentally and physically, so at lunch time Charles had to reluctantly leave Q Branch. Banner took him to the cafeteria for lunch. A few of the agents braver friends came up and introduced themselves and asked about Charles. Banner answered as simply as possible; new Q Branch recruit. Hand picked by M. They seemed impressed. 

After lunch Banner walked him back toward the first hall. 

“Where are we going now?” Charles asked him. He didn’t feel the need to hold onto the man’s arm anymore but still walked very close to him. 

“Medical. You have to do your psych eval.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You have to Charles. Wait here.” Banner left him sitting on a cold plastic chair, disappearing into an office for several minutes. Just when Charles was ready to hyperventilate or bolt or both he reemerged with a pretty young doctor with a red pony tail. 

“Hello, Charles. My name is Dr. Conners. I’ll be doing your evaluation.” Charles nodded at her, eyes on the floor. 

“This will probably take a while, so I’m going to go get some work done. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done, though.” Banner squeezed Charles’ shoulder. 

“Right this way, please.” Charles glanced up, realizing everybody was waiting for him. He stood up shakily and followed Dr. Conners down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at Banner who smiled at him. “You seem a bit nervous.” 

“I don’t like doctors.”

“Well, I promise there will be no shots. But our evaluation can be quite invasive.” She led him into an office. It was small but warm, with two arm chairs and a couch. “Sit wherever you like.” She turned on a machine by the door. “Nobody will be listening in, it’s just going to be you and me.” Charles sat in one of the arm chairs and pulled his knees up to his chest. He felt the need to be small, invisible. Dr. Conners sat in the chair across from him. 

“When you say invasive...how do you mean?”

“Well, I mean that I’ll be asking about your past, your family, friends, lovers... we like to have as complete a background as possible.” Charles felt his heart speed up. His distress must have shown on his face. “Does that make you nervous?” 

“There are things I can’t talk about.”

“Like what?” Charles shook his head, arms holding tightly to his legs. “Well, I guess I’ll find out when we get to them. Let’s start simply, ok? How do you feel today?” Charles shrugged, focusing on a spot on the ground. “Alright...well, what did you do today? Walk me through it.” Quietly, Charles explained his day, starting with Banner making him breakfast, moving quickly onto seeing Q Branch then having lunch. It took him barely any time to summarize the entire thing. When he was done, Dr. Conner’s smiled and nodded. “Good. Now tell me all the things you left out.” Charles looked at her, confused. “Agent Banner told me that he found you screaming in your sleep this morning.” He felt a pang of betrayal. What else had he told the doctor? “And according to your records this was apparently a nightly ritual starting sometime during your second week at Brookfield.” Charles swallowed thickly, it was getting harder to breath. 

“I don’t want to talk about Brookfield.” 

“Charles you were in prison for eight months, that is rather significant.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok, I’ll agree to set it aside for now, but at some point we will have to discuss it. What about the screaming? Have you been having nightmares?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Do you remember screaming in your sleep?”

“No,” Charles answered quickly. He heard the scratch of pen on paper. It was deafening. 

“Charles. Charles, stop!” He looked up at the woman with wide eyes. Her gaze was on his arm. He realized he’d been digging his nails into his skin and now streaks of red were running down his forearm and fingers. She quickly got up and dabbed a tissue at his skin. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just something I do.”

“It’s not fine, Charles, it’s a form of self-harm. Did you give yourself these bruises as well?”

“Some of them...” He waited to be yelled at, or maybe even hit, but Dr. Conner’s only looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. 

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” 

She abruptly ended the session after that and sent Charles to wait in the plastic seats. Charles felt the need to dig his fingers into his bruises, to tug at his hair. Thoughts swirled around his head that made no sense and something was tugging at his memory but his mind wouldn’t let him reach it. 

“Should take about two weeks to fully heal,” he heard a nurse or doctor talking and they seemed far away even though he could see them. She was talking to another woman.

“Thanks, Tia. Now I just have to go downstairs and face the wrath of the tech nerds.”

“Which toy did you break this time?” 

Charles watched her pull out a small compact radio made to fit easily into a person’s ear. Not wireless, not all the high tech considering....his mind was already working, leaping at the distracting. He stood up. “I can fix that!” he declared loudly, snatching the radio from the woman. 

“Um, I think it needs new parts...or maybe just to be scrapped.”

Charles shook his head, putting it on the desk and taking it apart. “No, all this,” his fingers twitched vaguely, “is complete unnecessary. Do you have a Phillips?” 

“A what?”

“A Phillip’s head screwdriver.”

She pulled a nifty-looking multi-tool out of her pocket and handed it to him. He worked frantically, his entire mind focused on the task. When he was done and straightened up, he saw both women were staring at him with large eyes. “Done.” He handed it to her. “They should stop using these, they’re no good. Something smaller would be easier to hide, and it wouldn’t break as easily.” 

“Now, Charles, I thought we talked about mocking the tech.” The boy practically melted at the sound of the familiar voice and he realized that he had somehow grown extremely attached to Banner in a very short time.

“Sorry,” he muttered, scratched at the back of his head.

“It’s fine. You’re done early.” Charles shrugged. 

“Agent Banner.” The woman who’s radio he’d fixed was smiling at Banner. He grinned back. 

“Agent Moneypenny.” 

“/Who/ is this?” 

“This is M’s newest recruit for Q Branch.” She raised her eyebrows. 

“Is he now?” 

Banner nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a quick word with Dr. Conners....” He went off down the hall. Charles chewed his thumbnail. 

“Thanks for fixing the radio. I hate it when they glare at me for damaging one of their poor babies.” Charles nodded, watching the hall were Banner had disappeared. “You alright?” 

“Yes, fine,” he said automatically. He wrapped his arms around his middle. “I think I messed up...”

“That’s alright. We all do, once in a while.” 

Banner came back out, followed by Dr. Conners, not looking please. “Come on, we’re going to see M.” Charles followed along after them, worried. He was made to wait outside the office where he chewed on his nail. To distract himself he mentally designed a new radio, since the ones they were giving to field agents obviously wouldn’t do. When the door opened Dr. Conners came to his chair, smiling. 

“Alright Charles. Here’s what is going to happen. I talked to M and told her that I can’t clear you until we’re able to have an actual frank conversation and I believe there are some serious issues we need to sort though. However, since this will take a while and we all agree getting you into some work would be for the best, we’re going to give you temporary clearance on the guidelines that you come talk with me every day for an hour. How does that sound?”

Charles absolutely did not want to talk to Dr. Conners. She was going to poke and pry at the parts of his mind that he kept locked down and dark. But the alternative was to not be able to work, and then what use was he to MI6? They’d probably just drop him back off at the prison. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he asked the doctor. She smiled sadly and squeezed his shoulder. 

After that Banner said he would take him home. Charles was shaky and exhausted and very much looking forward to being somewhere quiet and dim. They were at a crosswalk when Banner reached over and touched just his finger tips to the scratches Charles had made on his arm. He didn’t say anything or ask anything about them, just squeezed the boy’s shoulder and then turned his attention back to the road. 

“Why don’t you go have a lie-down,” Banner told him when they got to the flat. “I’ll hang around for a bit, order some food.” Charles nodded. He wasn’t sleepy, but he did want to be alone. He kicked off his shoes and took off his glasses and climbed into the bed, pulling all of the covers over his head. It was dark and warm and he was alone. He closed his eyes and thought of lines of code. If he were to compile a database on everything he knew about everyone he’d met at MI6, how would he do it? It was an easily, simple exercise meant only to focus his mind away from everything else. He used to do it about the prison guards all the time. His fingers twitched as if moving over a ghost keyboard. Eventually the code behind his eyes blurred and became a deeper darkness. 

Screaming. Charles was pulled out of the darkness by hot, strong hands. “Charles! Charles!” He opened his eyes and could recognize Banner’s blurry features. “Charles, are you alright?” 

“I was screaming again, wasn’t I?”

“Yes.” 

“I do that a lot...every night,” he stuttered, panicky. “I don’t.... I can never remember why I scream. I just hear it, and it wakes me up.” He was pulled again Banner, into his chest, with the man’s arms wrapped around him. Charles stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed into the embrace. Banner rubbed his back soothingly. 

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” he muttered into the boy’s hair. After a few minutes he pulled away. “Go get in the shower and wash up, alright?” Charles nodded. The man left and he sat still for a moment. Why was he screaming every night? If it was a dream, he couldn’t remember it. He pushed the bedsheets away and stood up, going to wash up like he was told. 

When he came out there were brown paper grocery bags on the counter and Banner was putting Chinese take-away onto two plates. Charles searched through the bags. Food stuffs, tea, and several books of crossword puzzles and sudoku and all manner of other logic and word games. 

“Don’t know if you’re into those or not. Thought maybe if you had something else to do in your hands you wouldn’t claw at your skin so much.” Charles nodded. “I also got these,” he held up a bottle of pills which rattled as he shook it. “To help you sleep at least while you’re settling it. Conners doesn't technically approve but I figure it’ll save you from loosing your voice completely. Also you’ll have a hard time tonight getting to sleep.” He handed Charles a plate and they sat on the sofa while they ate, watching a sketch show on TV. When Charles started to claw at his arms again Banner put one of the crossword puzzle books and a pencil in his hands. He tried but he couldn’t concentrate on the page. 

“I can’t think,” he said, head his hands. “I can’t think. I need--”

“No, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t. You don’t need it, you’re just addicted to it. Now relax, Hunter S. Thompson.” Charles thought there was no way anything could calm down the frantic hurricane in his head. He held his knees to his chest and began to seethe. What the hell did MI6 want with him anyway? Was he supposed to be a good little lap dog? So far he seemed already more trouble that he was worth. If he was still in his nice solitary prison cell, then at least guard he liked would have traded him drops for Charles’ stock market predictions that he inferred from the paper said guard also brought him. Then with his mind cleared he would have a few moments of peace. Charles curled into a ball and started to rock. “Charles...” Fucking Banner. Even in prison he hadn’t been watched this closely. Fucking babysitter, probably because he was a shite agent. 

“Fuck off,” he told the man. “I hate you.”

“You don’t hate me, you’re in withdrawal. Now take one of your shiny new sleeping pills.” He gave Charles the dosage and put the bottle back in his pocket. Probably didn’t trust the boy to be left alone with the whole bottle. Charles glared at the man and dry swallowed the pill. He glared at the television and only had a moment of noticing that his eyelids felt very heavy before he was dead asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alarm that went off had him jumping at least a foot in the air. “What’s that?” he asked his desk neighbor. Stephanie was already standing, twisting her hair and securing it on top of her hair like she did when she really needed to concentrate. 
> 
> “Alert. Security breach, somebody is trying to hack us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: really geeky jokes. But I squeezed them all into basically the same breath but really how could I not make some Star Trek and X-men references? 
> 
> Also I make a lot of shit up if you can't tell. So if things seem inaccurate; they are. Um...accept them as truth in the world of the fiction?

Charles didn’t wake up until the next morning. He had been put in bed, stripped down by Banner he assumed. He felt like absolute shite but on a good note, he could smell sausage frying. 

“Morning!” Banner was all too cheerful in his kitchen at that hour. “Tea,” he pointed to the electric kettle, pot, and box of leaves all arranged on the counter. “Thought you might want to do it yourself.” Charles turned on the kettle and sat down to wait, readying the tea pot with leaves and an infuser as he did. “You’re lucky, that stuff knocked you out for the worst of the withdrawal. 

“It did?” Charles had seen people going through the withdrawal. Drenched in sweat, moaning and rocking on the ground. They would yell at anybody who came near them, growing increasingly agitated, until they broke down and began to sob for somebody to help them, anybody. He heard some describe bad episodes like their body was being lit on fire. “You timed that out on purpose.” 

“Possibly,” Banner smiled as he broke eggs into a bowl and began to whisk them. Charles made a face.

“I hate scrambled egg.” 

“Too bad, it’s the only way I make them.” 

Charles made his tea, and even though he was so thirsty he was ready to down it, he waited for it to cool. His first real cup of tea in nearly a year. Banner put a large glass of water beside him and this he downed. Banner refilled it instantly. 

“You probably sweated out everything in you last night. And since I’m guessing you are made of only bone and water and blood, you probably lost a stone or two in the process.” Charles drank his water. When the food was finally done his tea was cool and he closed his eyes, savoring the taste. 

“Will I actually get to work today?”

“If all goes to plan. Not sure what they’ve decided to put you on yet.” 

Charles ate quickly, eager to get into the office and down to Q Branch. Banner made him shower (“Your hair looks like pigeons have taken to nesting in it, I’m not taking you anywhere like that.”) and put on his least baggy/holy clothes. 

“Why is everything black?” Banner asked him as they walked the short blocks to MI6.

“It’s dark.” Banner raised an eyebrow. Charles gave him a thin smirk. “Do you know what my main cyber alias was?” 

“No, what?”

“Shadow.” Banner smiled at him. Today Charles felt more confident as they walked down the main hallway. Q Branch was a flurry of activity, even for the early hour. 

“Most of them have been here for two or three hours already,” Banner told him. “And then there are the few who never left last night.” He nodded at one man they passed who sat as his desk furious typing, surrounded by empty mugs, with dark circles under his eyes. Banner walked him all the way to his new desk, where a few things were waiting. The agent picked up the name badge and pinned it on him. “Keep this on at all times. M seems to have taken the liberty of an initial for you.” Charles looked down at the tag. He didn’t remember having his photo taken but it was clear and he was looking into the camera. Under name it read ‘Charles X.’ It actually made the boy break out into a honest grin. 

“Just what I wanted, actually.” 

Banner chuckled. “You look good like that.” Charles looked down, hoping the slight warmth in his face wasn’t a colorful flush. There was also a file waiting for him. Banner picked it up. “Charlie X, your mission, if you chose to accept it,” Charles snorted in laughter, snatching the file from Banner. 

“Only time you’re allowed to call me Charlie,” he warned, flipping it open.

“Charles X just sounds like I’m talking to Professor Xavier...”

“That would be the point.” 

Banner laughed. “Alright, Prof, page me if you need me, I’ll be by around lunchtime.” Charles was already sinking down into his seat, reading the file. “And Charles, remember, there’s no right way to hit a woman.”

Charles smirked as he watched Banner walk away. “And they call me a geek.” 

The file was simple enough. He was apparently going to be used to improve the security of MI6’s network. However, he wasn’t allowed to access the network quite yet, probably they didn’t trust him not to tear it apart and invite all manner of cyber criminal in. The file outlined the basic algorithm used and asked him to improve on it. Charles could do better. He tossed the file away and started up the computer. Not even an internet connection. But all he needed was the program they’d already installed for him. Within minutes he was wrapped in code, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen. He couldn’t see or hear anything else. Finally, he could really and truly relax. 

He was so locked in that he didn’t realize somebody had been standing behind him for quite sometime until there was a hand on his shoulder. Charles jumped about three feet in the air. He’d been working for about two hours straight. A man he didn’t know was frowning down at him.

“Are you the wanker who did this?” Charles saw he was holding up the radio he’d fixed for the agent the previous day. The boy stared, silent, his heart racing. “Well?” Slowly, he nodded. “Well thanks a lot, now it’s completely useless. There’s a way we do things around here, alright? Just because your M’s new pet doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want. These radios all need to be the same and compatible, you know how much money this costs and now it’s worthless.” He dropped the radio on Charles’ desk. “Stick to your assignments.” The man stalked away, seething. Charles wanted to curl up under his desk into a little ball. A face peeked up over the cubical wall. 

“Hey, don’t let Anderson get to ya. He likes to think he’s more important than he really is.” The blond girl rolled her chair around the wall. “I’m Stephanie.” 

“Charles.” 

She smiled. “Nice to meet you. Can I see that radio?” Charles handed it to her. She examined it. “What a wanker. I’ve been saying for ages that these are all outdated. Leave to Anderson to get offended over an upgrade, just because nobody asked his opinion.” She put the radio back on his desk. “If Anderson cared about anybody other than himself he would have taken this to Q.” 

Stephanie was nice, but Charles really just wanted to get back to his work. It was then, however, that Banner showed up, placing his hands on Charles’ shoulders and squeezing gently. “Hello, Steph, traumatizing your new neighbor?”

“Agent Banner. Only as much as the training manual requires.” Charles wondered if Banner knew every employee on such a friendly basis and tried not to think too hard on why that irked him. Banner pulled him up out of his chair. 

“Come on, Charles, appointments to keep.” At the door Charles asked where they were going. “It’s time for your session with Dr. Conners.” The boy visibly paled. “She is trying to help, alright? All the same...if it gets to be too much I’ll be waiting outside.” He walked Charles all the way to the office and knocked on Dr. Conners’ door. “Go on in. It’ll be fine.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. Charles glanced once more at him as he opened the door. Once it was closed he felt very closed off and, despite Dr. Conners’ presence, very alone. 

She was waiting in the same armchair she’d sat in the first time, smiling softly at him. “Hello, Charles. I want us to think of today as starting again, and I want to apologize for not being fully prepared to speak with you yesterday.” Charles slid into the vacant chair, pulling his legs up against his chest. 

“You weren’t?” 

“You’ve been through quite a lot and I have the feeling I don’t even know the half of it. But I can’t expect you to just come in and feel comfortable talking about things that you’ve probably never talked to anybody about in your life. I want you to feel safe here, Charles. I want you to feel like this office is some place that you can always come to when you need a safe place to be. And so I want to start with talking about what makes you feel safe.” Charles shrugged, chewing on his thumb nail. “Anything?” 

“Dark,” he muttered. Dr. Conner’s nodded. 

“Alright. I think we could do something about the lighting.” She stood up and turned on several lamps, then turned off the overhead lights. “I don’t much like those anyway. Better?” Charles nodded. She sat back down, smiling. “Good. What else? What did you do when you were little and afraid?” 

What did he do? He could picture it; hiding in the dark closet behind all the coats, curled into a tight ball, somebody yelling on the other side of the door--- Charles shook his head. “No, no.” 

“No what?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Don’t want to talk about what? About your childhood?” Charles nodded. “Ok, that’s alright. Well, what Agent Banner? You seem very comfortable around him. Does he make you feel safe?” Charles’ thoughts moved to the agent, already a near constant presence, his only friend...where they friends? Banner was nice to him, took care of him, made him smile...

“Yes.” 

“That’s good. Have you ever tried meditation?” 

It turned out Dr. Conners was very into meditation and breathing exercises. She recognized the boy’s anxiety and wanted to try treating it without medication before putting him on all types of pills. They spent the rest of the hour with Charles laying on his back on the couch, eyes closed and glasses off while she spoke in sooting voices with soft music in the background. It actually wasn’t horrible, even though he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get to the state on his own like she seemed to want. 

Banner was waiting for him outside, as promised. “You alright? Everything good?” 

“Yes it was fine.” The other man’s concern settled like warmth in his chest. Safety. Banner was safety. “So M assigned you as my keeper?” he asked as they walked to the cafeteria. 

“More or less.”

“To make sure I don’t run off or cause havoc?” 

“Well a bit of that. Also to help you settle in, keep a general eye on you, act as a body guard.”

“Why do I need a body guard?” 

Banner shrugged. “Maybe M is paranoid. She’s worried about what kind of enemies you might have made.” Enemies? Charles probably did have a few....but none of them knew his real name or his face. They ate lunch and then Banner let him go back to work. He wanted to stay late and keep going but the agent dragged him out at 1700 hours sharp. 

“I was just getting into it,” Charles complained as they walked back to the flat. “I’m used to starting work at eight and going until four in the morning.” 

“And now you do actual legitimate work with a real paycheck. Congratulations, you’ve reached adulthood.” 

“As long as I don’t have to wear a tie.” Banner laughed loudly and then let Charles pick what he wanted for dinner. 

By the next day Charles could feel that this was the routine he’d be settling into. He was annoyed at the two-hour break he was being forced into in the middle of the day but at least he was coding again. 

“You seem more relaxed today.” Dr. Conners was smiling at him from her arm chair again. Charles shrugged. “Are you starting to feel more comfortable with me?” He shrugged again. “Well I’ll suppose I’ll take it. I’d like to start something today. I want you to tell me everything about your life, starting now and working backwards.”

Charles frowned. “I really don’t want to talk about my past.”

“I know. That’s why we’re not going to, not just yet. But the present, could you talk about that?”

“I guess.”

“And the past few days?”

“Yeah.”

“The past couple months?”

Charles thought back. Not much to talk about when he was stuck in solitary. “Yeah, sure.” Dr. Conner’s smiled. 

“Where would you like to start?”

Since she was letting him pick, he started with that day. The longer he could put off getting back deep into his past, the better. She didn’t seem annoyed at all as in went into in-depth detail over mundane things. It filled up the entire hour that way. “I thought you’d call me out,” he said as he stood to leave. 

“On what?”

“Aversion tactics?” 

Dr. Conner’s laughed. “Honestly I’m just glad your talking. You’re not nearly as shy and quiet as you pretend to be.” And he wasn’t. In fact, Charles had often been told he talked too much, especially when he got onto a topic he was found of. The week passed by very quickly, as did the following one. Things settled and became, for the first time in his life, easy. He only had two complaints. 

One was that he could feel himself becoming quickly attached to Agent Banner and wasn’t sure what to do about it. On one hand he did need the man, for the time being at least. And it wasn’t like there was any harm in it.... right? He constantly pushed it to the back of his mind and tried not to think about a time in the future when he wouldn’t be woken up the smell of his cooking, which was getting increasingly more diverse and appetizing. 

The other was that his work wasn’t challenging him enough. He complained to both Dr. Conners and Banner that he felt he wasn’t being utilized properly. He knew it was because they still didn’t trust them, but how were they going to unless they gave him a chance? Both of them told him to be patient, but he was starting to get restless, especially since he was still not allowed to have his own computer. His moment came unexpectedly, just as Charles was returning to his desk after lunch. 

The alarm that went off had him jumping at least a foot in the air. “What’s that?” he asked his desk neighbor. Stephanie was already standing, twisting her hair and securing it on top of her hair like she did when she really needed to concentrate. 

“Alert. Security breach, somebody is trying to hack us.” 

Charles followed her to the large main screens where he’d first seen the Quartermaster working. Codes was flashing across the screen and he read it like words in a book. Right now the hacker was being deflected by the security already in place but they were quick. Any minute now they would slip through. Charles looked at the three people standing by the keyboard, arguing. 

“Why aren’t they doing anything?” Charles asked, annoyed. Stephanie shrugged. “For God’s sake.” Charles began slipping through the small crowd that was gathering. He reached through the people standing about and punched two keys. 

“What the--” one of them, Charles thought his name might be McAvoy, started. Charles wrist was grabbed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“More than you.”

“What’s going on?” Everybody stilled when the Quartermaster stepped through. He looked down at Charles expectedly. 

“We’re just following protocol, Q,” the man holding Charles’ wrist (yes, McAvoy was his name) explained. “The program is searching for the source and the system seems to be holding up.” 

“No, it’s not! They’re just looking for weaknesses, unless you do something they’re going to taking their pick of top secret information any moment now.” 

Q nodded. “Alright, get to it then.” 

“Sir?” While McAvoy stared, flabbergasted, Charles yanked his wrist away and began typing. 

“I understand that Charles is somewhat of an expert in this field,” Q was saying behind him. “Maybe he can teach you something.” 

Charles wasn’t listening, he was in a world all his own. A world made of numbers where everything for once was black and white and it all made sense and everything fit into neat little boxes. All at once he could deflect the hacker and trace him back to his source and whoever they were started to panic. Very suddenly everything stopped, as if they’d just pulled a plug on the other side to get out and get out quickly. 

“What happened?”

“He got scared and ran away,” Charles cleaned off his glasses on his baggy, wide-necked sweater. 

“Great, thanks a lot, /kid/. Now we won’t know who or where he was.” 

“McAvoy, go get me a coffee.” Charles would have laughed at the look on the man’s face as he was sent away by Q, if he wasn’t so terrified himself. The Quartermaster looked down at him. “What can you tell me about whoever it was that tried to hack our servers?” 

After that, things got better, and Charles was finally allowed to have his computers hooked up. When he got home, Banner presented him with a laptop. When the agent left and returned with dinner, Charles had taken the thing apart and spread it all over the living room floor. 

“What the hell? You’ve already broken it!” he gasped in mock horror. 

“I’m making it better, since you refuse to return my own. If this is what I get then I’m going to have it as I like it. I need some things, though.” He held out a list to Banner who took it with a sigh and put it in his pocket. 

“Aye-aye, Captain.” 

It all put Charles in a fantastic mood. Not even his usual meeting with Dr. Conners, who was starting to poke and pry more and more into the darkness of his mind, could bring him down off his high as he walked down the hallway toward Medical. When he was just outside the door, it suddenly swung open. The force of both the door and the man barreling out of the department knocked him off his feet and into the wall. 

“007 if you tear those stitches I swear I’ll...I’ll--!” Charles was surprised to see Agent Moneypenny yelling after the man who’d knocked him down. He recognized him from his first time in MI6. Agent 007, James Bond. His name was all over files and reports. Moneypenny suddenly realized he was on the floor and helped him up. 

“Oh, Charles, I’m so sorry. Bond is such a brute and he’s always in a bad mood after missions.” 

Charles fixed his glasses. “It’s fine. He’s one of the SIS’s most valuable assets from what I’ve heard.” 

“Doesn’t give him a right to be such an arse.” 

“Maybe it does,” Charles replied with a shrug. “Shouldn’t certain...exceptions be provided toward those that regularly put their very lives on the line for Queen and Country?” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve becoming too patriotic for your own good.”

“I’ve always been patriotic. I love England. And whenever I hacked the systems at Parliament or MI6 it was never to cause any damage I was just dicking around--” He cut himself off. Moneypenny looked amused. 

“You hacked MI6?”

“I’m late for an appointment.” Sometimes Charles forgot just how black his file was. Most people there only knew he was M’s new pick for Q Branch, they weren’t even aware he had been scooped up out of prison, never mind why he had been there in the first place. 

He took a deep breath before knocking on Dr. Conners’ door. He was running out of ‘safe’ things to talk about with her and was getting nervous about which direction she would go in now. She was sitting there, like normal, smiling. He went to sit down and she stopped him. 

“Actually, I’d like for you to lay on the couch today. If you are comfortable with that.” Charles nodded and laid down her couch, rearranging some of the pillows. “Comfortable?” 

“Yes, I suppose.”

“And what about with me? Are you comfortable with me?”

Charles thought about it, knowing he needed to be honest. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me?” 

“...Mostly.”

“Care to elaborate?” 

“I’m unsure of how I feel about you...professionally.”

“You don’t think I’m good at my job.” Charles shrugged his shoulder in a silent apology. Dr. Conners nodded. “Charles, have you heard of psychoanalytic theory?” Just the sound of it made his stomach start to sink. She explained the theory to him, talking about stream of consciousness and how he was to talk about anything that entered his mind with no filter, no stopping. “I asked you to lay on the couch because this is how I traditionally like to conduct this type of therapy. But Charles, it is very intense and once it starts you need to see it through or you could end up much worse off. If you decide you want to do this, I will change our meetings to two two-hour sessions a week.”

“So I’ll see you less?”

“That is correct.” Charles thought about it; the chance to get to work uninterrupted. His work load was finally starting to increase, he was going to need as much time as he could afford. He agreed to the new treatment. “Excellent. How about we start tomorrow, and then we can do sessions every Wednesday and Sunday?” 

“We can meet on weekends?”

She laughed. “Of course. Is that alright with you?” 

“Absolutely.” 

He talked about it with Banner that night while they ate spaghetti. “That kind of thing can be very intense,” the agent mused. “Are you sure you’re ready for something like that?”

“If it means I can end my therapy and move on with me life.” They ate in silence for a while. “Aren’t you getting bored of this?”

“Of what?”

“You’re still looking after me. When are they going to decide I’m settled and let you back at your real job?”

Banner shrugged. “When M says so.” 

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to that.”

Banner laughed. “What do you think I do all day? Wait around for you? I’m doing other work, it’s just most desk-centered right now. It’s nice, though, like a little holiday. I’ve got plenty of years left to do field work.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of psychotherapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the added warnings, i.e. child abuse. 
> 
> I have never been in psychotherapy, everything in here is taken from research and readings I have done.

Charles was lying on his back, eyes closed, listening to Dr. Conners’ soothing sounds tapes. 

“Charles, I want you to relax, and just tell me what floats through your mind.”

He answered honestly. “Code.”

“Describe it.”

“Lines of code. Just white numbers in a black abyss.”

“Tell me more.”

Charles sighed. This was certainly not feeling like anything that was going to uproot some deep emotional trauma. “I guess...they made me feel safe. The lines of code.”

“Keep going.”

Something else was prodding the edge of his memory. “My...uncle taught me. When I was really little. I didn’t go to school...I was too smart and got in trouble. But I couldn’t go to the gifted school because....I don’t remember. They just said I couldn’t.”

“Who is they?”

“My parents?” Charles tried to picture them and couldn’t. “They died when I was seven. That’s when I went to live with my uncle.”

“And he taught you to code?”

“Yeah. I would sit on his lap and watch him for hours and I learned how to read it. I could read code better than I could read books for a while.” Dr. Conners didn’t say anything now, so Charles kept going. “We would write messages back and forth in binary. It wasn’t exactly efficient, but I think he was just trying to keep me amused. I didn’t know then, but I think now he must have worked for a mob. Really shady stuff. He took me one day, to see the boss. They were nice to me and he told them I was a prodigy and I was so happy that he could be proud of me. They were angry at him, though. He took me with him so they wouldn’t hurt him...” Things began to whirl around his mind quickly, like a hurricane. 

“Deep breathes, Charles.” He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back to safety. “I’m right here, you’re all right.”

He took a deep breath and the hurricane slowed. “He started letting me help him. Just simple things, not creating anything for myself, just filling in the busy works parts....” Charles physically flinched. 

“What is it?”

“I messed up. I... I got something wrong. Just one number. Just one thing was off. A typo.” 

“What happened when you messed up?”

The hurricane was growing again. 

“It was an honest mistake and I can fix it. I know how to fix it.” He was starting to hyperventilate again. 

“Charles, what’s happening?”

“H-his belt. He’s taken it off and...and I keep trying to apologize. He is so angry, keeps saying I ruined everything but I can fix it. It hurts! He won’t stop hitting me and it hurts!” Charles sat straight up with a strangled gasp, opening his eyes. The world was blurry without his glasses. His cheeks were wet. 

“Charles?” He shook his head, mouth gaping. No more, he couldn’t do any more. “Charles I’m going to call Banner in right now, alright?” He didn’t respond. He was shaking. He distantly heard a door open and suddenly strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him. His fists clenched the fabric of Banner’s coat as he cried in his chest. 

Banner took Charles home for the rest of the day, a short journey he didn’t remember, and put him to bed. When he woke up it was dark out and there were voices coming from the living room. He groggily padded out to see who it was. 

Banner and Dr. Conners were sitting on the couch, chatting with mugs of tea in their hands. Dr. Conners noticed him first. “Oh, Charles, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” Charles looked from Dr. Conners to Banner and back. 

“Confused.” 

“Come sit down.” She patted the seat next to her. Banner got up to get him his own tea. “Now I know it might not feel like it,” she started once he was seated, “but that was actually a very good session. I’m very proud of you.” Charles took the tea that Banner offered him, but he wasn’t feeling much up to praise. “Now, because that was the first, I wanted to check in with you and see what you thought about it.” 

Charles blinked between the two people staring at him expectantly. He’d had a panic attack, felt like he was drowning, had for a moment actually seen and felt the belt his uncle brought down in him again and again. It was a memory he didn’t even remember having. He told them as much. Dr. Conners smiled.

“That is what the therapy is intended to bring up. Those repressed memories. So we talk about them and sort them out. Find out how they are affecting you in the present and come to terms with them. I know it’s painful, and it’s hard, but it will help you so much if you continue on.” 

Charles looked down at his tea. What else was he repressing? The therapy had been horrible and painful, but now he was curious about his own mind. “I think I could keep doing it,” he looked up, “if Banner was always there afterward.” The man’s strong arms had been what brought him back and anchoring him back in the present. 

Banner nodded. “I can do that.” 

Dr. Conners and Banner talked while Charles drank his tea quietly. His mind was still floating carefully around the memory, not quite ready to prod at it more but not wanting it to slid away. So vivid....he’d only been what? Eight? Nine? He’d always assumed he didn’t remember so many part of his youth because it was so far away. 

He had two days of work, a day of rest (which usually meant playing video games with Banner) and then he was back in Dr. Conners’ office. He’d never seen MI6 as empty as it was on a Sunday. Banner waited right outside the door while Charles went in and got comfortable on the couch. 

“Charles, last time you talked about your uncle. I want you to tell me more about him. What did he look like?”

Charles let a vision come swimming toward him in the darkness behind his eyelids. “He had pockmarks. Grey hair...it was long, in a ponytail. He had yellow teeth. He smoked a lot.”

“Charles, you’re touching your arm right now, does that signify anything?” He hadn’t even realized that he’d begun rubbing his forearm. 

“His cigarettes....”

“What about them?” Dr. Conners was so careful to prompt him without putting any false images in his head. 

“He burned me with them.”

“To punish you?” 

“The first time...the first time with the belt and the code, was the first time he ever struck out at me. But it happened more and more after than. He was in debt. He blamed me, but he’d been gambling long before I’d gone to live with him. He started drinking a lot. He threw things at me.”

“What did he throw at you?”

“Bottles. Cigarettes.”

“Your uncle threw lit cigarettes at you?” Charles subconsciously began to rub his arm again. 

“I found a ways to escape him. He couldn’t throw that high, or climb up, not when he was drunk.”

“Where did you hide?”

“The roof. It was cold.”

“Anywhere else?” 

Another image, darkness within the darkness. 

“Where are you Charles?” Dr. Conner’s voice was far away. 

“The hall closet. Behind all the coats. I don’t know why there’s many coats, he never wears any of them. It’s hot, but I can’t move.” 

“Why?”

“He’s looking for me.”

“To hurt you?”

“I don’t know what I did. He won’t let me code anymore, he won’t let me near the computer. He’s yelling. He’s always yelling. I can hear him.” Charles began to shake, his breathing erratic. “I can hear him, he’s drunk, and he’s coming, and he’s going to find me.”

“He’s not going to find you Charles, you’re safe. The dark, remember. You feel safe in the dark.” Charles calmed a little. “Good. Deep breathes. Come back now.” Gently, she pulled Charles away and back into the room. He felt much better than he had at the end of the first session. 

“Can you always do it that way from now on?”

She laughed. “I’ll try. It all depends on you. If you are in a really unsafe place you may come out of it more quickly because you have to get away. Today we kept a good balance and controlled it.” 

He walked into the hallway and Banner stood to meet him. Charles walked straight into his arms, because that seemed to be ok and why he was there anyway. The man immediately pulled him in tightly. 

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. Tired.” 

Charles was still on the sleeping pills and hadn’t dreamt at all since starting them. Banner told him that Dr. Connners was planning on taking him off them over the coming weeks. It made him nervous. For the first time in his life he was actually getting a full recommended sleep. What would happen when his insomnia crept back in? 

At work he was being allowed to add his new security measures to the MI6 servers. He also improved the programs they used to track attempted hackings. He was surprised when Q stopped by his desk with a new project. 

“I heard about what you did with that radio.” Charles jumped, startled. Q continued. “I know we’ve technically got you in our cyber department, but I need you to design something for 007 that he can’t break.” The Quartermaster handed him what Charles assumed use to be a clever little camera described as a pen. It was now broken and smashed. Charles took it and turned it over in his hands.

“Alright...”

“Something wrong? You can do it, can’t you?”

“Of course, I’ll design whatever you like. Only...this is a bit old school, isn’t it?” When he looked up at Q the man was smiling. 

“Why don’t you let your imagination run wild on this one? Have designs on my desk by Wednesday.” Charles smiled to himself as the man walked away. 

“That’s a good look for you.” Despite the tease, Charles didn’t bother to wipe the smile from his face as he turned to face Banner. “Having a good day?”

“Fantastic.” 

“Excellent. Listen, I got called for a mission.” A small, cold stone dropped in Charles’ stomach be he ignored. “Just a quick jump over to Tokyo. Should just be a couple days. You’ll be alright.”

“Of course. I can survive very well on my own, thank you.” 

Banner chuckled. “Alright, well here’s Moneypenny’s mobile. Ring her up if you need anything.” Charles took the card. “And no crazy parties.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Alright, dad.” Banner laughed and ruffled his hair. 

“See you in a few days.” Charles watched him leave and tried not to feel cold. Banner wasn’t abandoning him, he’d be back soon. And Charles was going to take care of himself and prove that he could be left alone, so that Banner would soon be able to get back to his job full-time. He put Moneypenny’s number in his pocket. 

Charles sucked himself easily into his new project. That evening, he hadn’t even realized that Q Branch was emptying until a hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his designs. 

“He said you’d work yourself all night if I didn’t stop you. Come on, I’ll walk you home.” Apparently Banner had left very good notes for Moneypenny because she stuck around to make sure he ate, got a shower, and took his sleeping pill. Honestly he probably would have forgotten to take the pill (what a full functioning adult he was) and with Banner not around to chase away his night terrors, that would have been a disaster. 

Moneypenny was there in the morning to make him breakfast. She was much more talkative than Charles and he was fine to sit quietly while she gabbed. 

“You know he’s up for double-oh status?”

“What?” A mouthful of egg nearly fell out of Charles mouth. Moneypenny smiled at him. 

“Yeah. If this mission goes well he could be looking at getting the promotion within the year.”

Charles wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was well known to him by now that the life and work of a double-oh was very, very dangerous. They weren’t the type to plan for retirement. 

“Why would a double-oh candidate be assigned to watch me?”

Moneypenny shrugged and sipper her coffee. “A lot of physical and psych evaluations are required before you get approved. I guess M figured he’d be around a lot anyway.” 

Unfortunately Dr. Conner’s was still insisting on their regular meetings. Charles walked in and looked at the couch with distrust. 

“Do I have to lie on the couch today?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Do you not feel comfortable doing that with Agent Banner out of town?” Charles nodded. “That’s fine, today we can just talk.” He sat down in the arm chair and curled his legs under him. “Do you have any friends, Charles?”

“I used to. I’ve only seen them once since I left Brookfield. I didn’t think it would be approved of to keep much contact with any old acquaintances.” 

“What kind of people are they?”

Charles shrugged. “Other hackers. We all met on the web. Except Grim, he’s my cousin.” 

“Are you using your new job as an excuse to not see them anymore?” Charles looked up, not sure if he should be upset by the accusation. 

“Why do you think that?”

“Because nobody ever told you that you aren’t allowed to have friends, Charles. Or connect with people from your old life, as long as you don’t resort back to old habits. All you do right now is work and then go home. It’s not healthy to not have any form of social life. Having friends to talk to might be good for you, especially if their family.”

Charles made a face. “Just because we’re technically related doesn't mean we’re close.” 

“It seems to me that you don’t want to be around these people anymore. How do you think you could maybe meet some new people? A new group of friends.” 

Charles shrugged. He hated socializing. Especially off the internet. 

“Well, something to keep in mind. Too many people here devote their entire lives just to their work, and it wears them out very quickly. It’s good to have a release, or somebody to talk to.” 

“I talk to Banner. And Agent Moneypenny.” 

She smiled. “Maybe somebody your own age.”

“I don’t really get along with people my own age.”

Dr. Conners leaned back in her seat. “And why do you think that is?” 

“Because they’re usually idiots.” He was surprised when Dr. Conners laughed. 

“Did you ever hang out with people your own age? Back when you were still in school?”

“If I did I don’t remember them.” 

There was a long silence between them. Charles looked at the clock and saw they were almost done. 

“Have you ever loved somebody, Charles?” The boy looked over, surprised at the question. “I don’t mean just in love like romantically. Is there anybody who you can say you loved?” 

“I guess I must have loved my parents?”

“Do you remember what that felt like?”

Charles whispered “No.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a happy chapter. Don't get used to it.

After talking to Dr. Conners, Charles thought more about his old friends. And he found out that he actually did miss them. So on Saturday he told Moneypenny he was going out. She was lounging on his sofa, claiming that there was construction being done by her flat and it was quieter at his. 

“Alright. Have fun.”

“Are you going to follow me?”

“God no, it’s freezing out.”

Charles shrugged and pulled on his coat. He took the tube to the familiar neighborhood, retracing steps he hadn’t taken in so long. The old house looked the same, run down and cramped. He knocked on the door. 

“Fuck you want?” Grim glared at him from behind the screen door. 

“Nothing. Are you the only one here?” Grim finally opened the door and Charles walked in. Had the walls always been that dirty? He was afraid to touch anything, now so used to the sparkly clean of MI6. He follow Grim back into the living room. The blackout curtains were still over the windows so one could sleep in darkness at any time they chose. It was just the kind of life they led, that they would pass out at odd times. Grim collapsed on one of the sagging, threadbare couches and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Charles, who took it and sat down in a chair. They were both quiet as they traded a lighter around and smoked in silence. 

“Found something new, have ya?” He didn’t answer. “Kyle?”

“It’s Charles now.”

“What? They changed your name?”

“No, I did. I don’t want to be Kyle anymore.”

Grim rolled his eyes. “Changing your name don’t change who you are.”

“You seemed to think it would.”

Grim flicked ash at him. “You are such a tosser.”

“I have something for you.” Charles dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. He’d mulled over it the night before for some hours before making a decision. He handed it to Grim who unfolded it and looked inside. 

“Jesus fuck. That’s a lot of money.” 

The set of checks had come with Charles first paycheck but he hadn’t had occasion to use them yet. “I make a good paycheck now. A legitimate one. Thought your savings could use some help.”

Grim set the envelope down slowly. “Savings are gone. Used ‘em up helping out Mary.” Charles thought for a moment to remember. Grim’s girlfriend. 

“She get into trouble?”

“She got pregnant.” 

Charles felt a rock drop in his stomach, his eyes wide. “She...but you...”

“She cheated on me. Got knocked up. And I fucking gave her everything so she could deal with it.”

It was quiet for a moment. Grim lit another cigarette. “Are you two...”

“We’re not together any more.”

“Oh. Good.” 

Grim chewed on his lip ring, one of his tells. “Thanks.”

“You know what it’s for?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Figured it’s about time.”

Grim gave him a long look. “Why’d we stop talking to each other?”

“When you started going by Grim you became a dick.”

“I didn’t mean to. It was just hard...dealing with everything.” 

“You could have talked to me about it.”

“I didn’t think you’d understand.” 

Charles stole the cigarette box and light a second. “It was worse having to hear it from other people.”

“Yeah...sorry.” Grim’s face was filled with true remorse, more than Charles had seen on him in several years. He moved over to the couch, sitting so their legs touched. He let his head lean over to rest on Grim’s shoulder. “Missed you, cuz.” 

“Missed you, too.” 

“How was prison?”

“Horrible.”

“And who are your new friends?”

Charles smiled to himself. “Can’t tell. Top secret.” 

Grim poked him hard in the ribs. “Yeah, fine. Be mysterious as you like, I don’t care. Any cute boys?”

Charles blushed. “Yeah, a few.”

“Any cute girls?”

He laughed. “None that would have you.”

They ended up wrestling around, laughing and trying to push each other off the couch. Neither of them had their heart into hurting the other and they ended up just lying their, tangled. 

“I’ve been going to this therapist,” Charles admitted after a while. 

“Yeah?”

“We talked about Uncle Dom.” Grim stiffened. “Do you...do you know if...?”

Grim sat up, not looking at him. “No. Haven’t heard from him in years. I just assumed...”

Charles nodded. “Yeah. Me too.” The both looked up as the front door opened. 

“Shadow!” Charlotte bounced over to him and practically threw herself into his lap with a big hug. “I’ve been so worried about you. A couple days after you showed up Dewitt got arrested.” 

“I’m not surprised. His office was being monitored.” Her eyes grew wide.

“No way.” 

Stev gave him a large smile. “So good to see you. You always light up the room.” He bent down to kiss Charles on the head. Charles and Grim exchange glances then both bit their tongues to keep from laughing. Charlotte curled up in an arm chair. 

“Are you going to come out with us tonight?” 

Charles shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Shadey has a /real/ job now. He won’t tell where, though.” 

Charlotte looks distressed. “They’re having you work on a Sunday?”

“No,” Charles said, standing. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable in a bigger group. “I have to go to therapy.” He managed to excuse himself and took the tube back to his flat. Moneypenny was exactly where he’d left her. 

“Hey, I was thinking about ordering a pizza. Sound good?” she asked without looking away from the TV. Charles settled next to her on the couch, feeling more content than he had in a while. 

“Yeah.”

“Have a good outing?”

“Yeah...really good.” 

He told Dr. Conners about going to see Grim the next day during their meeting. She seemed very pleased that he had reached out. 

“It’s perfectly fine to leave situations when you feel overwhelmed. It sounds like most of your old friends have quite expressive personalities.” 

“Yeah...we just think Stev is on too many drugs.” 

Dr. Conners smiled. “Or there’s that. Tell me more about Grim, you never mentioned him when you talked about growing up. Is he your uncle’s son? The one we already talked about?” 

Charles rested his head back against the chair. “No. He never had any kids. He’s the son of my mother’s other sibling. Her sister.” 

“Where was this aunt when your uncle was abusing you?” Charles squirmed at the term. Though it was true, this was the first time it had been paired with the memories. 

“I don’t think they knew...or maybe they did. I don’t know. Uncle Larry, her husband, hates everybody. Including my Uncle Dom. I would go over there sometimes when he wasn’t there and I needed watching.” 

“How do you feel about your aunt?”

“She’s...alright. Comparatively. I think her husband hits her. I know he hit Grim a lot before he ran away.”

“When was that?”

“When we were sixteen. We left together. Planned it for months. We’d met some people online, our age, who liked computers and said they got paid to do things. So we came to London and met up with Charlotte and Justin, and Stev at some point...” Charles chewed on his lip, thinking. “It was... weird, not like I’d expected. A lot of hiding in the dark and moving a lot. Sometimes we didn’t have a place to stay. I didn’t really understand what was going on, either. He just said ‘Call me Grim from now on’ right before we met Charlotte and Justin for the first time and I thought he just wanted a cool new name. I didn’t get it, and he got frustrated, and we started fighting a lot.” He glanced up at Dr. Conners who just looked at him patiently. “He used to be Grace. Gracie,” he explained. 

“Ah. I see.”

“I didn’t know that was why he wanted to leave. I thought he was such a spoiled brat. He had a home and parents and went to school. I needed to escape, I needed to leave. I thought I was being so nice letting him come along, but that’d he back out.” 

“When did you finally learn what was really going on?”

“Caught him in bed with a girl. Asked if he was a lesbian. He punched me.” 

“Sounds like Grim has some aggression issues.”

Charles smirked. “That’s putting it mildly.” 

His reconciliation with Grim made Charles feel a lot better. It had been hard not having him to talk to over the years, made more difficult by the fact that they shared a circle of friends and saw each other constantly, usually lived together. He realized with a pang of sadness that night that Grim was probably his only family member he would ever talk to again. He decided to make it a point to speak to him at least once a week. His small circle of people he could trust couldn’t possibly get any smaller and still leave him intact. 

Banner came back, unharmed. He smirked at Charles’ obvious relief. “Told you it was simple. In and out.” He still saw Moneypenny quite a lot, despite Banner being the one to once again escort Charles around and cook him food. The next Saturday he told the agent he wanted to go out alone and went to see Grim again. Thankfully, nobody else was there. They smoked hookah because there was no TV. Suddenly Charles turned to Grim.

“You ever been in love?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh...thought I was, I guess. Dunno. Not that kind that supposed to last forever.” ‘

“Do you think that kind even exists?” 

Grim leaned his head back with a sigh and thought for a while. “Yeah.” He looked over at Charles. “Why are you asking?” 

“I was just thinking about how I’ve never told anybody that I loved them...and nobody’s ever said it to me.”

Grim rolled his eyes. “It’s not that great. Maybe you should seduce one of them cute boys at work and get them to say it to you.”

Charles shoved Grim, smirking. “Oh, shut it.” Grim laughed and shoved back and that started a back-and-forth that ended with them on the floor and Charles’ sleeve catching fire when it got too close to the fireplace. They laughed about it and not much damage was done, but Banner gave him an odd look when he got back. 

A couple weeks after his return, Banner showed up at his desk and hit Charles softly on the head with a file. 

“I’m about to go turn this in.” Charles took out his earphones, which he had started wearing while he worked because the music helped down out distractions. 

“Yeah? What is it?” 

Banner sat down in Stephanie’s seat, who was away at lunch. “It’s about you. M wants to know how you’re settling?”

“And...?” Charles squirmed, suddenly nervous. Banner smiled. 

“Well she’ll interpret it for herself, but,” he rubbed Charles’ head affectionately, “I think you’re doing very well. The doc will be filing her own report, of course.” Charles sessions with Dr. Conner’s were going well. Mostly they continued to focus on his abuse. (She’d made him say it out loud a few times, among other things. It made it so much more real that his voice shook but afterwards he always felt better. My uncle was an alcoholic. My uncle abused me. Things like that.) He still hadn’t stopped taking the sleeping pills, though. She’d asked if he thought he was ready, and he replied with an honest ‘no.’ 

After the reports where filed, Charles found out he had an appointment with M to talk about them and discuss his future. He was incredibly nervous about this. Banner laughed at him and so he threw one of the couch cushions at him. 

“You’re ridiculous. It’s just a talk, she’s not that scary.”

“You want a one-on-one with her.”

“Hell no.” 

Charles rolled his eyes, point made. Banner was still chuckling and he tried to busy himself with a sudoko but kept chewing on the pencil until it nearly snapped in half. 

“Oh, come here. I’m tired of seeing you all pint up.” 

Charles cautiously put down his game book and scooted down the couch to were Banner was spread out. He was surprised to find himself pulling against the man’s chest, strong arms wrapped around him. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hugged before; he still often went to Banner to hold him for a moment after his sessions; but this was different. This was practically cuddling. Charles cautiously relaxed against the other man. He was warm, much warmer than Charles who was always cold. The scent of his aftershave was familiar by now, and Charles couldn’t help himself tipping his head to get a better whiff of it on his neck. He smiled and nuzzled into the man’s soft shirt, closing his eyes. Banner moved his arm and for a moment Charles was worried he would be pushed away, but instead the man just settled his hand in Charles’ hair and stroked the tangled locks. 

“You need a haircut.” Charles liked that he could feel Banner’s deep voice vibrating through his chest. 

“I like it this way.”

“You look like a rat when it’s wet.”

“I look like a rat when it’s dry.” 

“A too skinny rat.” Banner poked at his ribs and Charles squirmed. The agent realized that apparently the boy was ticklish and began a full, merciless attack, that had Charles screaming with laughter, trying to wiggle away and only ending up falling onto the floor.

“You ass!” he accused at the man still holding his sides and laughing on the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Get back up here.” Charles tried not to appear too eager as he happily crawled back onto the couch and curled himself against Banner’s side. 

“I’m not going to see you as much, am I?” he asked after a while. “When M says I’m fit to take care of myself.”

Banner snorted. “I can’t imagine you ever being fit to take care of yourself, you’re like a toddler.” Charles elbowed him. “It’s true! Can’t even cook for yourself.”

“Yes I can. You just always did so I didn’t bother.” 

“Really? Well maybe I’ll stop now.” He quietly ran his fingers through Charles’ hair. “Yeah. Not as much. But I’ll still be around.”

“Moneypenny told me about the promotion.”

“That’s not set in stone yet.”

Charles pushed himself up to look at Banner better. “Practically is. You’re a fantastic field agent. I read the file on your last mission.”

Banner quirked an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

Charles flushed slightly. “I’m allowed... Q Branch gets access to agent files so we can make our own assessments of improvements we can make to gadgets.” Banner smiled at him. 

“Well...it seems like it’s coming.”

“Are you scared?” Charles put his head back on Banner’s chest, one hand loosely curled into his shirt. 

“Nah. A little nervous, it’ll mean more missions; more responsibility.” 

“More dangerous missions.”

“Maybe.” 

Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wondering if it was possible to memorize a scent like you could a song or a book. “Promise you’ll always come back?”

“Of course.” 

Charles smiled and they laid together for a long time. 

Even though Charles couldn’t stop squirming under M’s hawkish gaze, he still did very well at the meeting. He told her that he enjoyed his work and was very content to busy himself with the projects assigned, that he hadn’t done any outside ‘excursions’ on his own time into the cyber world, and that he had every intention of continuing on at MI6 as long as they’d have him. She was pleased. 

Banner and Moneypenny took him out to celebrate his new independence. He was finally being given normal security clearance for a person at his level, of which he was very much the youngest. They all got much too drunk and in the morning Charles had to learn to get himself out of bed and make his own breakfast. His apartment felt very big and lonely. By the time the weekend came he was taking to leaving the TV on all the time at a low volume, even when he slept. So he decided to invite Grim over, telling him to come alone. 

“Holy fuck. How much do you make, again?” his cousin asked as he turned around slowly, taking in the place. It still wasn’t decorated or personalized at all. Apparently before Charles it was used as one of MI6’s many safe houses and they didn’t mind handing it over to him until he felt like finding a place that better suited his personality. 

“I didn’t say.”

“Yeah well you should.”

Charles just smirked. “Enough.” 

They played video games and pigged out on pizza. “I was thinking of getting a cat.” Charles mused. 

“Why don’t you just get a boyfriend?”

The boy blushed. “Because that’s stupid.” 

Grim laughed. “What are you, five? Come on, there must be somebody.” 

Charles paused the game and set down his controlled. Sensing the other’s now serious mood, Grim sat up and leaned against the couch behind him. “What’s up?” 

“There’s a guy at work. And I really like him and we used to spend a lot of time together, but now he’s busy all the time. And I just think...maybe it’s for the best? It would just make things complicated if I...said anything.”

Grim rolled his eyes. “You can hack into any system you come up against but if a relationship seems to difficult, you give up.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Because I’ve seen you for years now just fucking guys who were convenient and easy and hiding from anything more cause it’d be ‘too complicated.’” Annoyed, Charles got up and went to the kitchen for water. “Hey, you asked for my opinion!” 

“I did no such thing.”

“You told me what you were thinking. That invites opinion.” 

Charles came back and sat on the couch with a glass of water, pouting. “I didn’t sleep with that many guys...” 

“No. But you didn’t have any boyfriends.” 

It was true. Relationships were messy. They required a lot of time and effort and fell apart too easily. What was the point. Add on that Banner would now constantly be going from one mission to the next, when he wasn’t in recovery for the missions, just as soon as he got his double-oh status. 

“Everything is complicated.” 

“Yeah life sucks and then you die. Hey, I set a date for surgery.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Three months from now.”

“Want me to be there?”

“If you want.” 

Charles smiled and poked the other with his toe. “Hey,” he started suddenly. “I love you.”

“Huh?” Grim looked at them as if he’d grown another head. 

“Have you ever said that to anybody?”

“No.”

“Neither have I. I wanted to try it. I love you.”

“That’s fucking weird.” There was a long pause. “Love you, too.” Charles smiled triumphantly and leaned into Grim’s side. The other man rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucking pouf.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't feel anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is where we start to get into the realm of running out of pre-written chapters and I'll be playing catch up. Will not be updating as often as I was, sorry. I have a full load of classes currently and sometimes when I have time off I'm not in the mood to write. But I will try my best to not let too much time go by between updates!
> 
> WARNING: Mild description of graphic violence.

The night before Grim’s surgery he went out to celebrate at a pub. Charles declined to go. He had agreed to play nurse to the other man for his post-op weeks and wanted to get as much work done as possible. The pub was crowded with people watching a game. Grim, always brash and quick to jump, started a fight with a burley Irishman. In the alleyway behind the pub he got his face bashed in bloody, and his head slammed into the cold, wet concrete over and over until his skull cracked. He died before reaching the hospital. 

The funeral was on a Saturday. The following day, Charles curled up into a ball on Dr. Conners’ couch. Neither of them spoke for at least half an hour. 

“Charles,” the doctor spoke finally, her voice soft and gentle. “I want you to talk to me about how you’re feeling.” The young man didn’t speak. “Charles, I need you to talk. Tell me what you feel.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Is that true?”

Charles hugged his legs tighter. “...No.”

“Then tell me what you’re really feeling.”

“I feel shitty.”

“That’s a good start. What else?” 

Charles blinked his eyes, tears finally starting to form. “I feel like I should have been there.”

“Do you think you could have helped?”

“Maybe... I don’t know. I could have done something!” 

“But you weren’t there, Charles, and that’s ok. None of this is your fault.” The young man turned over and hid his face in the back of the couch. “Charles?” He heard shifted and then the couch sank down as Dr. Conners sat behind him. “Try to put your feelings into words. Don’t hold things in.”

“I feel....alone.” His shoulders shook as he began to cry quietly. Dr. Conner’s rubbed his back slowly for a few minutes. When he walked out the room, still shaking with wet cheeks and red eyes, Banner was waiting for him. He walked into the man’s arms and closed his eyes as the other held him tightly. 

Banner took him home and Charles spent two days curled up in bed. On Tuesday morning he was dragged out of bed and pushed into the shower. 

“M says you have to come in. There was another attempted hacking last night.” The promise of work that might be challenging gave him the drive to shower and swallow a quick cup of tea and a store bought muffin. At MI6 McAvoy met him at the door to Q Branch and instead of being led to his desk he was taken to the main station. Q was nearby, waiting. 

He nodded to one screen. “There’s the record from last night. It started at 3 am.” Then to another screen. “There’s the system as it is now, we think we’ve patched everything up but I want it gone through with a fine tooth comb. And this,” he pushed a few keys to bring up a third screen, “is what we’ve been able to trace so far. Priority is stabilizing the security so we don’t get hit while we’re weak. Then I want you to find out what they got from us. Stephanie is working on a trace but I don’t think it will turn much up.” Charles nodded, pushing his glasses up as he stepped forward. He didn’t blink as his hands landed on the keyboard and began to fly. This was what he needed, and he wrapped himself in code like a security blanket. He wasn’t even aware of how many hours passed, just that occasionally a mug of tea would be placed nearby. Whenever he paused long enough to take a sip, he saw Q was still standing there over his shoulder, just observing. He was an older man with white hair. Charles wondered how much cyber security he really knew. 

At one point McAvoy’s voice cut through his concentration. “What are you doing? They didn’t even look into the double-oh files, why are you messing around there.”

“It’s still weak. They could have gotten in if they wanted.” 

“You’re supposed to focus on the holes they made.”

“I already patched those.”

“McAvoy, go get me some coffee.” Q’s voice sounded tired beyond belief. “Charles, I appreciate it, but save the extra work for another time. Did you find out what information they got.”

Charles pressed a few keys and pulled up a list on one of the screens. “At first glance it seemed random. They pulled some CIA files we have, a few older things from the fifties, miles of arrest records, death records, some records of old interrogations. There’s a common search word, however.” Charles hit a few more keys to highlight what he’d found. “Bain. They did a very rudimentary search and just took everything that came up. But it seems they were only able to get half of what the entire search actual entails. Still, quite a lot of information. It will take them a while to sort through it and find what they were really after, if they were able to get it at all.” He turned to Q who was nodding. 

“Good work, Charles.” 

“Who is Bain, sir?” 

Q sighed. “Crime family. Been around for a long time. Every once in a while they dip their fingers into something bigger than themselves and it involves international security. Some arms trading, working with the Yakuza. But generally it’s been small enough that we just leave them to MI5.”

“Why would somebody want information on the Bain family?”

“That’s a good question, Charles. But you’ve done quite enough and frankly it’s giving me back pain to see you still standing there are so many hours. Go get something to eat.” Just as well, Charles fingers were staring to cramp. He felt mentally exhausted and physically sore. It felt good. He hadn’t even realized what time it was until he got to the cafeteria and found it closed. 

“Ah, fuck.” Charles turned and saw Stephanie behind him, who looked very tired and apparently was also hoping for some food. “Well, there’s a nice place right down the street. Want to join me?” 

They ended up in a small cafe that was nearly empty. Charles realized as they sat across from each other that he knew absolutely nothing about the girl who worked next to him and always made a point of saying hello and goodbye, asking him how his weekends were and grabbing him a cup of tea when she got up to get one for herself. 

“Quite the doozy, wasn’t it?” Charles assumed she was talking about the hacking they’d both been dealing with the aftermath of. He nodded. “I tell you, it really happens way more often than it should. I think Q is just now starting to take the cyber security department seriously. He’s impressed by you, that’s for sure. And giving you all those different projects! You’re quite the jack-of-all-trades.” She grinned at him from over her menu. “Where’d you learn it all?” 

Charles stiffened for a moment. “Just...grew up with it,” he answered quickly. 

“Do you like art?”

Charles blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was thinking about going to this exhibit next week, do you want to come with me?”

Charles blushed. “I would, but I don’t... I mean it wouldn’t be a... would it?” 

“You mean a date?” Charles blushed harder. Stephanie gave him a wide-eyed stare back. “I thought this was a date.” 

“Oh! No! I mean, not that you’re not-- I just don’t really--” He stopped when he realized she was giggling at him.

“I’m just kidding. You’re a hyper one sometimes. I know it’s not a date, I just like you is all. Anyone can see how much you fancy that agent of yours.” She winked at him and Charles wanted to sink into the seat and stay there forever. “So next weekend? The museum?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Great! I can see I’ve at least put you in a better mood than earlier. What do you think looks good?” She was back to studying the menu and Charles nearly smiled. Because she was right, he was feeling better now. Distracted, but coping even, maybe. It was like he had a chance of everything being ok.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner becomes a double-oh.

“I changed my mind. You would be a shit double-oh.” 

Charles was leaning against Banner, the mans arm wrapped around him while they watched Doctor Who on television. When Charles had said he wasn’t a fan of the show the man had taken it personally and was now forcing him to watch it whenever it was on, which was far too often it seemed. 

“Why is that?”

Charles wiggled into a more comfortable position against Banner’s chest. “You’re too nice. And you smile too much. None of the other double-oh’s ever smile, unless they’re trying to sleep with somebody. Or killing them.”

Banner laughed. “You just always see them when they come back from missions.”

“I see the equipment they destroy,” Charles grumbled. 

“Don’t be one of those. If I had a dollar for every geek in Q Branch who complained about agents using their gadgets--” 

“Well it’s expensive technology that your lot seems to think is disposable!” 

“Occupational hazards, would you rather fewer gun losses and higher amounts of injuries?” 

Charles pouted. “Maybe.”

“You’re a prat.” Banner poked at Charles’s ribs and made the younger wiggle and screech. Q was able to win with the use of bony elbows and the agent laughed, pulling him close and holding him. 

“Is there going to be a ceremony?” 

“No. It’s not something they want to advertise or make known, having another double-oh. They’re already targeted enough.” Charles visibly stiffened. In response, Banner held him tighter. “Not worried about me, are you?” 

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble and who will be there to get you out of it?” 

“Well I’m sure you can build a nifty gadget to save me.” 

Charles rolled his eyes. “I’m in cyber security, that design was just a one-off for Q...” He wiggled around again until he could wrap his arms around Banner’s middle. “I don’t want you to run off and get hurt.” Fingers appeared in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, and Charles closed his eyes, giving into the relaxing sensation. 

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got you to worry for me. Now shush, Donna’s talking.” Charles mentally rolled his eyes again but snuggled closer to Banner. It was clear the elder thought of him as some kid brother type, an innocent who needed to be watched and protected. Charles crush on the agent was still running rampant but as long as the agent visited him once a week he was content. 

The only thing that really marked Agent Banner’s change from basic field agent to double-oh was a minute change on his file, which Charles looked up and noted during work. Double-oh-nine. Well, he had always thought of nine as a sort of lucky number. 

009’s first mission was possibly more stressful for Charles than it was for the agent. Charles hovered around the members of Q Branch who’s job it was to lead agents through missions, if it wasn’t too serious for Q or even M to lead. He kept one ear out for alerts or yelling or possibly the sound of gunfire over somebodies radio. During the most intense part of the mission, Q took over and put everything on the large screens. Charles took a tea break and stood quietly in the back, eyes wide. 

“Charles? Charles?” He didn’t even realize Stephanie was there until she tugged on his sleeve. “Come on, let’s go get a biscuit. It’ll be fine.” She pulled him away gently. “You look white as a sheet. Sit down.” She pulled out a chair and he sat, realizing that he was in the break room. Stephanie made them each a mug of tea and sat across from Charles, smiling sweetly. “You’re a bit sweet on him.” Charles ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at his mug. A bit? Yeah, sure. Just ‘a bit.’ “It’s alright,” she continued. “You learn pretty quickly not to get attached. It’s just easier that way.” She said this all very matter-of-factly, light hearted even. 

“How can you talk about living people the same way you’d tell somebody working at a shelter to not get attached to the mutts that come through?” he demanded. 

“Well, it’s just...it’s just how it is. You go mad if you put your heart out there for every person. You’ll learn soon enough, not everybody comes back.” 

Charles paled. “He will, though. He’s going to come back.” 

The intensity of his words took her back. “Of course he will! 009 is going to be a fantastic agent. Just...not everybody does come back. And the first few months are when a new double-oh is most likely to--” 

Charles pushed his mug off the table and it shattered all over the floor, splattering hot tea on his legs. “He’s coming back!” He could feel the hurricane coming, the whirling in his head. Too many thoughts and feelings. “I have to go.” He stood up and ran out of the break room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator up to the main floor because he was afraid to stop moving. He let his legs lead him to where they knew he needed to be. 

Dr. Conners was sitting at her desk and looked surprised, naturally. “Charles?”

“Can I sit in here for a while?” 

“Of course.” 

He shut the door behind up and collapsed on the couch, curling into a ball and closing his eyes. 

“What do you need, Charles? What’s going on?” She had gotten up and moved closer, but her voice was soft and comforting. 

“You know those meditation things? Can you do one of those?” His voice sounded shaky, even to him. 

“Of course.” He focused on the doctors voice and allowed her to lull him with numbers and talk about breathing and clearing one’s thoughts. He felt himself sink into the couch, his muscles relaxing, eventually his body uncurled slightly. Dr. Conners rubbed his back gently. “What’s going on?” 

“Banner’s coming back, right?” 

“What do you mean?”

“From his mission. He’s going to come back, right?” 

She was quiet for a moment before answering, and it almost restarted the panic inside him. “Agent Banner and the rest of MI6 are going to perform to the best of their abilities on every mission he is assigned. It is top priority, after the successful completion of a mission, to restore and retrieve every double-oh agent from the field.” It was textbook memorized, but somehow made him feel better. She told him to lay there for as long as he needed and went back to working quietly at her desk. He was fine with going back to work, but he didn’t want to see Stephanie again. He was embarrassed. He’d lost control and shouldn’t have broken the mug like that. He’d uncovered his face and was frowning at space for a while when Dr. Conners spun around in her chair. 

“About ready?”

“I made an ass of myself,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure it was nothing that isn’t forgivable. It’s time to get back to work, Charles.” 

Stephanie of course did forgive him. They mouthed quick apologies to each other before getting immersed in their own work. Charles made a decision to ban himself from watching or listening to anything to do with the mission. Later that afternoon an alarm went off and he nearly had a heart attack before it was confirmed to be just an emergency drill and he followed the rest of the branch out of the building through the designated hallways. While they waited outside in the light drizzle to be told they were allowed to go back in, Stephanie and him chatted casually and she reminded him of the museum visit she’d talked about. 

Instead of psychotherapy he worked with Dr. Conners on dealing with his anxiety. He also stopped taking the sleep pills, and was surprised that when he did her meditative exercises before bed, he didn’t wake up screaming. He did dream, though, for the first time in years. Sometimes it was stressful or scary, but usually a little while after waking up he would forget them again. One morning he work up to the smell of sausage frying and was sure it was a dream. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” Banner was standing in his kitchen, making him breakfast. Charles ran over and threw himself at the man. “Ow, easy.”

“I’m sorry! Sorry. I’m just.... why are you here?” 

Banner shrugged. “Got in last night, got checked out at medical, though some breakfast might be in order and remembered there was a well functioning kitchen right nearby.” Banner wasn’t allowed to discuss details of the mission, so they talked instead about what Charles had been up to over the past few weeks. He talked about hanging out with Stephanie and the exhibit they saw at the museum. His co-worker painted in her spare time and had decided to introduce Charles to more classic culture and art. 

“What’s this?” Banner asked as Charles returned from changing for work. The agent tugged at his collar with a smirk. Charles batted his hand away.

“Just trying to look more...professional.” Stephanie had also taken him shopping, and Charles was the owner of several collared shirts and nicer trousers. She hadn’t yet been able to get him to put on a tie, but at least now everything fit and he didn’t look so out of place. 

Banner smiled. “I like it. You look like a TA.” 

“Better than looking like a tired old dog.” 

The man laughed loudly. “Christ you’ve gotten snarky. Is this how you are when your well-fed and rested and not having panic attacks?” Charles just rolled his eyes and lovingly shoved past the man. 

At work he got called over to another desk by McAvoy. “Let’s see what the golden boy can do with it,” he heard the older man say. Charles was handed a flash drive. “None of us can figure out this program. Use the secure station in the corner and see what you can do.” 

Charles had a lot of fun with that project and soon he was surrounded by other members of the cyber security branch, cheering him on. He had gotten through the first level of the program, opening it up and starting what was a series of classic analog games; pacman, tetris, pong. He had to beat each increasingly difficult level and in-between decipher lines of code. Eventually McAvoy squeezed his way back through to see what everybody was crowded around for. 

“Oh, wonderful. A game, isn’t that fantastic. Ok, that’s enough. Kill the program.” 

“But we want to see what’s at the end,” complained one person. “There must only be a few levels left.”

Unamused, McAvoy stalked forward and leaned over Charles. “Kill it.” Charles almost hesitated but kept going. 

“There’s only a bit left...” He hadn’t even made a single mistake yet. 

“I said kill it you, you insolent prat--” 

As he spoke, McAvoy had reached for Charles’ chair to push him away, causing Charles fingers to slip and the pacmac he was controlling to get eaten by a ghost. The screen went black. Everybody held their breath and waited. 

‘GAME OVER. YOU LOSE.’ 

The messaged flashed on the screen three times, then a whirl filled the room. 

“It was looping. It’s overheated.” 

There was a mad scramble to get away before the computer exploded. Altogether not an impressive explosion in the history of Q Branch, but Charles felt the heat and smelled burning plastic as he was pushed away, his chair tipping and spilling him out over the floor. 

The cyber department was cleared and Charles was forced to go up to Medical and sit on an examination table. He had a few cuts from flying pieces of plastic, and kept voicing his thoughts that he was fine to return to work. But they made him stay so they could check his eyes and nerves and any other random thing they could think of. 

“Charles?” He looked up and saw Tanner, whom he knew of but had never spoken to, standing in the doorway. He walked in closing the door behind him. “I need you to tell me about the events of today.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“We take security threats very seriously.” 

Charles paled. “But, I didn’t---I wouldn’t---It wasn’t mine, I don’t even know where it came from, McAvoy just gave it me--”

“Charles, nobody is accusing you of anything. But we do need a complete report of what happened.” 

So Charles had to stay while they went over every tiny detail. Many times Tanner asked him to repeat things and go back over them several times. By the end of it he was drained and shaky, gripping the side of the bed with white knuckles. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think he said where they got the flash drive. I assumed it was from a mission, I don’t know. I don’t know.” There was a knock at the door and both men looked up. Dr. Conners came in, her face unreadable. 

“You’ve gone over your interrogation time by an hour, Tanner. I think you have everything you need. Charles, come with me.” 

He was expecting her to take him to her office, but instead she walked him outside and back to his apartment. 

“Am I in trouble,” he asked with a small voice. He felt empty and lightheaded. 

“No. Tanner is just trying to follow protocol. But it’s a stupid protocol.” She took him up to his apartment and made him sit and drink several cups of water, then a bowl of soup. Just as he was finishing, Banner burst in. 

“Are you ok?” He demanded, coming over to Charles and giving the younger an excessive visual examination. 

“Fine...”

“I’m going to run back to the office. Call me if you need anything.” Dr. Conners left, and Charles had the suspicion she’d messaged Banner and hadn’t wanted him to be left alone. 

“I’m fine,” Charles said again, pushing Banner’s hands off him. “Really.” 

“Dr. Conners told me what happened with Tanner...”

“They don’t trust me,” Charles exploded, standing up. “After everything I’ve done they still don’t trust me! I haven’t done anything, not one single fucking thing wrong! I’ve sat up here like a good boy and I’ve done everything you’ve told me and gone to Dr. Conners’ sessions. How can they still not trust me?” 

Banner led him to the couch, made him sit down. “There’s nothing you can do,” he said and it was so harsh that Charles opened his mouth to argue angrily but Banner held up his hand to shut him down. “It’s bureaucratic, it’s a company made of lies and hidden agendas. There is always going to be something more important than you going on. The knowledge in your head will always be more important to them than your body, remember that.” 

Charles swallowed, staring at Banner. “Are you supposed to be telling me this.”

Banner smiled. “They’re bastards, Charles. They always have been, they always will be. You can’t trust anyone, not really. You’re favorite person there might be the person who kills you one day. All that matters is the orders you get.” 

“If the orders didn’t make sense, I wouldn’t follow them--” Banner shook his head.

“You have to. This isn’t just the state of one person, or a building, or a city. This is the national security of England that’s at stake. You follow your orders and you do them the best you can. That’s how they’ll come to trust you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner had been missing for seven days.

“I think I’m getting the hang of these double-oh missions,” Banner grinned, leaning on Charles’ desk having just picked up his latest weaponry. “They’re really not all that hard.” 

Charles rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky.” 

“Me? Cocky? Why I never.” Charles looked up and couldn’t help but halfway return the older man’s bright grin. “Well, I’m off to a undisclosed location to take down an undisclosed mark for undisclosed reasons with no disclosure.” Charles rolled his eyes, turning back to his computer. 

“Have undisclosed fun. Bring me back a present.”

“Thought I’d give you one now.” 

Charles looked up, surprised, to see Banner holding out a box to him. “Thought I’d go ahead and give it to you. Happy early birthday.” Charles took it and opened it up. 

“A tie.”

“I figure you’ll get used to them eventually.” 

Charles rolled his eyes again and set it aside. “Thanks.”

“Ok, you hate it. Can I at least get a goodbye?” 

Charles turned in his seat to face him. “Goodbye, Agent 009. Good luck.”

Banner smiled at him. “Goodbye, Charles. I’ll be back before your real birthday, promise.” He ruffed the boy’s hair before he left. 

The mission did not go well. 

“It happens sometimes,” Stephanie tried to explain to him. “Well, a lot with some of them. They go dark for a while. Usually it’s to protect the mission or their identities. They almost always turn up again on their own.” She went away when Charles didn’t answer. Her words didn’t make him feel any better.

Banner had been missing for seven days. 

Charles drowned himself in his own work because there was nothing he could do to help the search effort. Double-ohs do go dark often. But it was still troublesome. Charles wanted to help, knew he could so something, but he treaded lightly these days. He worked on his assigned projects and nothing else. McAvoy ended up getting the blame for the virus and explosion. Charles hadn’t seen him since but there was word he’d been moved to a different department, not fired. MI6 couldn’t afford to fire anybody who at any time had had access to sensitive material. But the incident made Charles wary. His talents were wasted unless he was working across multiple projects, on security and development and design, but that wasn’t how Q Branch operated. He sat quietly at his desk and he tore through every project handed to him. In his spare time he designed new, better codes and saved them until he could show somebody who might pass it on to Q. 

He had a new flat, further from MI6 so he takes the tube. He liked having the train ride to just sit there and turn off his thoughts, listening to music on an MP3 player he built himself during a long, lonely weekend. Sometimes it was hard to sleep and all he wanted was to find some drops, but he refrained. Instead he searched for new hobbies and after an excursion to an outdoor fair with Stephanie, he tried his hand at wood carving. It was messy and difficult and he stabbed his palm a few times but learned he liked it, even if he wasn’t very good. 

He made an entire crude chess set before there was any word on Banner. He had been dark for all of two weeks by then. 

“It happened last night,” Stephanie told him, leaning around the small wall that divided their desks. “Luckily somebody was around to pick up the call. He’s in Calcutta! Thought he was being tracked and ended up having to run. Should be back in London in a few days.” 

Charles had never felt so much relief. He actually smiled and Stephanie smiled back, though she knew his fondness wasn’t for her. They were just friends, not even very close but it was nice to know you had at least one confidant for office gossip. 

Charles’ only thought was that Banner was coming home. He was alive. Charles decided to make a dinner to celebrate. He went shopping, searched online for recipes and tips. He wasn’t a fantastic cook, preferring to just pour hot water over instant noodles and call it a day, but he told himself it’s just science. Delicious science for hungry people. Science that could possibly kill somebody if he doesn’t cook the chicken all the way through, so he made sure to pay special attention and study the recipes. 

It was a curry, because Banner liked spicy things. He bought a bottle of wine, even though he avoids drinking himself. He also picked up some fresh flowers, just to make his place look nice. 

Then he stopped and examined his kitchen and wondered what the hell he was doing. Banner was going to walk in and turn around and leave again. Charles had practically set this all up as a date. He could scrap it all, Banner didn’t ever have to know. He tried making the dish, too much for himself but better to have leftovers than waste it all. He ended up burning and it and getting frustrated with himself, which cooled over quickly when he received a text. 

‘Hey Chuck! Back in town, coffee tomorrow to catch up?’ He quickly texted back, keeping it casual and vague because they were both trained to not trust civilian communication (Charles had bought his own cellphone after all, annoyed at the simple one given to him) no matter how many security measures Charles could create for it. 

Charles actually slept well that night. 

In the morning he took extra time to dress smart. Trousers, cardigan, button-down, and (just for Banner) a tie. He attempted to comb his hair into something that resembled tame but gave up. He was jittery on the tube, even smiling to an old woman who smiled back. That had never happened before. Charles got a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window and felt a jolt of shock. No longer Kyle, no longer Shadow. All of it, miraculously, was behind him. He’d been with MI6 for a year now. Without M and Banner he would still be finishing out his sentence in prison. He would still be an addict. He would still be dealing with criminals and the underground and would probably die with a bullet in his head. He still might die with a bullet in his head, but at least he looked a lot nicer. Generally felt better about himself. 

“You look nice,” Stephanie told him when he got the office. She looked him up and down. “Have you always been taller than me?” 

“Probably not, I was short for my age until I was fifteen.” 

She punched him lightly in the arm. “Cheeky. But really, you’re taller than I recall.” Charles shrugged. “Maybe it’s your posture. Straighten up.” He did. “You slouch too much, that’s it. You should be careful, sitting at a desk for long hours is horrible for your back. I think we should start some kind of department daily yoga routine.” He laughed. “What? I’m serious!” 

“Of course you are. I’ll just take the memo and put it with all the others of mine that are getting so much notice.”

“Oh relax. Everybody knows you’re the best they’re just worried it’ll go to your head if they give you too much credit. You want a tea?”

“No, I’m going to meet Banner for one in an hour.” 

She grinned at him. “Good having them come back, isn’t it?”

He returned her smile. “Yeah, it is.” Charles worked diligently for an hour before leaving promptly to meet the agent. It was nice enough out that he didn’t need a coat. They were meeting outside of a cafe not far from MI6. He saw no sign of the other man, so he sat down on a bench to wait. Just when he was starting to get nervous, fiddling with his phone, he heard a sharp whistle. 

Charles looked up and couldn’t help but smile. Banner looked fantastic in a suit, that was for sure. He waved at the younger, his normal huge grin on his face, just half a block away. Then, suddenly, everything moved to slow motion. 

It looked at first like Banner had been hit but a sudden strong gust of wind. He swayed sharply to the side. Charles didn’t even notice the blood until the man was on the ground, half in the street with a red pool forming around him. 

There was screaming. 

And he didn’t remember anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that is the end! I'm sorry. But there is going to be a sequel and trust me, it's 100x times better than this fic. Thank you so much to everybody who read you are all amazing and lovely and perfect. Here is a teaser of the next installment, which will focus on Q and Bond developing a relationship. It will be called "Snow and Lightning." 
> 
> And here is a small teaser:
> 
> In the end, the promotion had not been surprising. MI6 needed more cyber security. The days of building gadgets, cars that could talk, and pens that could explode were gone. Wars were being fought in cyberspace now. They were rumors of major cutbacks on field agents, though nobody could be certain. 
> 
> “How does it feel for it to be all yours?” Stephanie asked him as he stepped into the department for the first time under his new title. He looked around, remembered the first time he’d seen it all. 
> 
> “Smaller.” 
> 
> “Got you a present.” She handed him a small box, unwrapped. He thanked her and carried it to his new office. It was empty save for a desk, walls blank, devoid of personal sentiment though he could add in his own touches if he wanted. It was his to do as he desired. On his desk was his new security badge, as promised. He picked it up, examining his new name. His files had all been wiped clean. No name, no address, no history. Just shy of a decade at MI6 and his past had officially been erased. He sat down and opened Stephanie’s present and smiled at how fitting it was. A mug. A letter ‘Q’ mug, even.
> 
> Q leaned back in his seat and took a moment for it all to sink in. Then it was time for work.


End file.
